A Fool In The Rain
by DefectivelyFlawless
Summary: Some girls make you do things that can damage your health. Jon Snow, for example, is out in the pouring rain trying to buy lemon cakes for Sansa. (Modern Universe)


Jon was aware of the waitress throwing him nervous glances through the shop window. He could not blame her; after all he was the fool who stood outside the town's bakery's, running his hand threw his hair, while staring at the row of assorted cakes.

He chewed his lip nervously, feeling his eyebrows furrow in thought. He let his hand drop from his hair, shoving it into his winter coat and out a sigh. The cakes beckoned him in and the aroma of fresh baked cookies and bread took him by the hand and led him inside.

It was a typical town bakery, like the type he saw in the cheesy romantic-comedy's his mother made him watch with her on the weekends. The atmosphere was airy and bright, the front of the shop was all glass with potted plants. The feel of the place was modern yet had some rustic charm at the same time.

Jon heard his worn-out shoes squeaking against the floor, he grimaced in discomfort, already feeling out of place. He caught the assistant's eye, her eyebrows raised expectantly while eyeing his washed out jeans. He fought the urge to shuffle, instead plastering a smile on his face- although he doubted he looked as friendly in her eyes.

"May I help you?" asked the assistant.

"Aye, do you sell lemon cakes?" he stared hopefully up at her, feeling his body tense.

The assistant shook her head, still looking weary of him. "I'm really sorry, sir. I just sold the last batch to a young girl a few minutes ago."

Jon felt his body deflate. "Can you not make any more?" his eyes pleaded.

"I apologise, but the shop's policy does not allow us to make any more cakes after eight." She paused before continuing. "Would you not want to have a look at the other sweet products available?" she encouraged, pointing towards the counter.

Jon shook his head, ploughing on desperately. "Look, I'll pay double the usual price. It's only you that's working right now, anyways. Surely it wouldn't be that much effort? "

"Sir…I'm afraid…" she hesitated, feeling unsure of his tempting request.

"Triple even."

She looked across at his desperate face, sighing in defeat and gives out a sharp nod. She turns to grab a pair of gloves from under the counter.

* * *

 _What the hell am I doing?_

Jon was pacing hurriedly in the pouring rain, his shoes squelching in the process. He gritted his teeth, hearing a voice in the back of his mind: _You're walking to Sansa's house in the pouring rain, with lemon cakes shoved securely into your side._

He scowled, throwing away the sly voice from his thoughts. His car had broken down as soon as he had tried to switch it on, forcing him to walk. He had completely forgotten his umbrella as well, his only thought focusing on bringing the cakes to Sansa.

A chilly, November night would warn anybody with a brain to avoid going outside at this time. Anybody that was _not_ in love, that is, Jon grumbled.

A flash of red caught the corner of his eyes, reminding him of his best friend whom he was going through this for. He sighed, knowing the struggle he was going through, was worth the smile he was going to get from Sansa. She had just recently broken up with her boyfriend-Harry- and Jon had to keep himself in check from crying tears of joy in front of her.

He had wanted to buy this for her, ever since he had found out that her ex-boyfriend had thought vanilla cupcakes were her favourite. If you asked Jon, he could count the amount of times in which she had reminded Harry that lemon cakes were her favourite. He had never wanted to hit someone in the face as bad as he did in that instance.

So here he was, rain streaming into his eyes, plastering his curls to his forehead, soaking through his clothes. He was going to get a reprimand from his mother if he got ill later on. Perhaps even from Sansa, he let out a soft smile despite his circumstances.

He was bumped, jostled and shoved aside by the passer-by's on the pavement, sometimes catching an elbow to the ribs, and even being on the receiving end of a sharp stiletto heel. If only Theon could see him now, he would never let Jon live it down.

By the time he had reached Sansa's house, it was fair to say that he was feeling quite irritable, more so than usual. He rang the doorbell and heard the sound of feet approaching while he stood shivering in the doorway.

Sansa gasped the moment she saw him. "Jon! You're soaking wet. Come in, let me bring you a towel," she grasped his wrist, pulling him inside as he barely gave a nod.

"Sansa…" he breathed out, his mind numb from the cold, the only focus he could grasp on was the radiant red- head coming closer towards him with a towel.

She frowned at him in concern. "What were you thinking of? Being outside in this weather, you're going to get ill."

"I went to the bakery," his teeth chattered.

"Whatever for, surely you could have gone tomorrow?" she crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"I heard about your break-up. I wanted to get this for you," he stared up at her with his soft eyes while holding out the cakes wrapped around in parchment. She grabbed it with a curious expression, with Jon waiting in anticipation.

"Oh, Jon…" she looked up at him in shock. "How did you even get these, they are always sold out whenever I go?"

Jon shrugs. "I wanted to make you feel better," he said.

Sansa stared at him for a few seconds before a beautiful, adoring smile lifted up the corners of her mouth. She glanced shyly at Jon through her long lashes. He could not help but smile back at her, his stomach felt as if swans were doing dives. At that second, he felt her arms thrown around his neck, pressing her slender body against his, and cutting off his thought process.

He froze for a second before his hand came to rest tentatively upon her waist. Unable to help himself, he pressed his nose against the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent which never failed to make him feel dizzy.

"You brought lemon cakes for me?" she asked softly, her face buried in his shoulder.

Jon could barely bring himself to talk, and so he just gave a nod.


End file.
